It's Tradition
by solar-baeby
Summary: Everyone has their Christmas traditions; Takeshi and Satoshi aren't any different. Slash.


**A/N: **Well, hi there! It's been lo-ong time, hasn't it? I haven't posted anything in forever! Especially for the DNAngel fandom. My last story for this was...wow, over five years ago. Anyone remember that? Probably not, since I was but a babe then and my writing sucked royally. Well, here is something new for all of you, and for one of my favorite pairings!

This fic is actually a gift for **schizo and proud**, the woman who really kick-started the small following this pairing has. I have been promising her a Satoshi/Takeshi story for years, and I finally made good on that promise! It's a small, little bit of Christmas cuteness that I wanted to write. This was actually initially inspired by a song (which I will put a fixed-up link to below, for those interested), and then I thought "Hey, I want to give her a gift!". So, if you enjoy this, thank her.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, and I hope you all enjoy this story. I enjoyed writing it, and thinking up the situation.

**Notes**: Here are a few notes for you before you read:

1) Christmas is not practiced as we know it in Japan. Only about 2 percent of the Japanese population are Christians. Christmas is not recognized as a national holiday, and is in fact completely secular. Instead of being viewed as a "holy night," they view it as the most romantic night of the year. I decided to stay true to this with Risa's sentiments and the overall idea for this story.

2) Honorfics. I have not watched the Japanese version of the anime, so I don't know how everyone refers to them, so I stuck with Tokyopop and the English dub. Anyone who watched it knows everyone calls each other by their last names, and that Daisuke is the only one who refers to Risa as "Miss Harada". So, I made him the only one to call her "Harada-san." Also, FYI, a lack of honorfic indicates closeness.

3) I have NO IDEA what kind of music they listen to at parties or anything over there, okay? This is just me inserting my own thing in here, using American music and Japanese music that I know of.

4) I don't know if students in Japan get off around Christmas; I'm using my very limited knowledge to assume they don't, since they go to school WAY more often than we do in America. Do your own research if you're curious.

5) I have no idea what Takeshi's mom's name is. I don't think they ever mention it, and if they do my books are an hour away at my university, which is closed. So we're going to stick with Azusa-chan, agreed? Agreed.

**Inspiration:** This fic was inspired by the song "First Snow, First Love" which is sung by Yoseob from the Korean idol group BEAST and Drama from the Korean idol group Dalmation. The song talks about kissing your first love during the first snow of the year. It's a really sweet song, and the boys sound so good. And there are English subtitles for those of us who can't speak Korean. Here is the video, if anyone is interested (just insert the correct punctuation): http(colon)(double slash)www(dot)youtube(dot)com(slash)watch?v(equals)DehviFXvans&feature(equals)player(underscore)embedded

**Disclaimer**: I don't own DNAngel and make no money from this story.

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_It's Tradition_

_By: Shadow Vampiress_

"Aren't we going to get _any_ snow this year?" The voice of the younger Harada twin was easily heard over the quiet murmurings of the other students. It was early morning, the day before Christmas Eve. Class had not yet started, so the students congregated around the desks of their friends. The entire room sang with the anxious energy of teenagers ready to leave and do something fun, even at the early hour. However, all were exhausted enough to keep their voices down. All except Risa Harada, it seemed. Three sets of eyes turned to look at her figure at the classroom window: one curious, one bored, and one vaguely annoyed.

"You must really like snow Harada-san," quipped Daisuke, owner of the curious eyes. Although he had long since professed his love for Riku, the elder Harada twin, the redhead hadn't stopped caring for Risa as a friend.

"Not really," Riku spoke up from beside him, shrugging. "She can't stand it. Every time it snows she complains about how inconvenient it is."

"I do not!" Risa exclaimed as she blushed.

"Do to!"

"Do not!"

"Do to!"

"Do not!"

"Do-"

"Then why do you want it to snow Harada-san?" Daisuke asked, before a fight could escalate.

"Because Niwa, tomorrow's Christmas Eve!"

Daisuke and Riku looked at one another in confusion, and then looked once more at the long-haired girl. Stars were sparkling in her eyes as she rested her chin on her hands on the window, staring outside at the cloudy sky.

"So…" Daisuke said, uncertain, drifting off as he thought of how best to answer the question.

"_So_," she said emphatically, "Christmas Eve is the most romantic time of the year, right? Well, how can I go on a date with Dark-san when the atmosphere is all wrong?"

"The…atmosphere…"

"Of course! Everyone knows snow makes Christmas more romantic than it already is."

As Risa sighed about Dark, the legendary phantom thief, Daisuke's confusion deepened while Riku glared. Her opinion of the thief was well-known among the girls, as was her opinion of her younger twin's crush on him. While Daisuke tried to think of something to say that would alleviate the growing tension (not that Risa, in her daydreams, was aware of it), a bored Takeshi resumed looking around the room. There had been no warning letters from Dark in weeks, and he had nothing else to report on other than a small house fire from when a woman tried to roast chestnuts. So he looked around the room, hoping against hope that something interesting would pop up. His reporter's eyes saw everything, including how Satoshi Hiwatari, the boy genius, had resumed writing in his ever-present notepad. The blunette had looked up upon Risa's exclamation, out of annoyance more than anything else, and now deemed it necessary to return to…whatever he was doing. Boredom was a dangerous thing when it came to Takeshi Saehara. When he was bored, he was like a time bomb; if time ran out, then he would explode and cause more mischief than necessary. And, right now, it seemed the timer had just hit zero.

"You're so full of it, Harada!" he scoffed, sauntering up to the group with his hands on his hips. "I don't think I've ever heard of anything more ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous!" Risa retorted, straightening up and turning to face him, glaring. The two of them were instantly the center of attention. It had been exactly one week, two days, eight hours, twenty-three minutes and fifty-four seconds since the two had had their last row. Takeshi had won their last bout after tricking Risa by saying Dark had been waiting for her in the schoolyard. The score was now Takeshi: 8, Risa: 10. The class held their breath, wondering who would win this time.

"So what you're saying," the reporter drawled, his eyes gleaming in a way that made the younger Harada nervous, "is that frozen water, which is essentially what snowflakes are, makes a situation more romantic?"

Risa wasn't stupid. A bit of an airhead and a major romantic, sure, but she could sniff out a trap better than anyone. And right now a warning was going off inside her brain like a fire alarm. But she spoke up anyway.

"On Christmas, yes, it does."

"So you're saying that tomorrow I can show up at your house and dump a bucket of ice on you, and no matter what, the situation would be romantic?"

"Of course not!" Risa exclaimed, irritated, as the class erupted into laughter.

"But you _said_ frozen water makes things more romantic, didn't you?" Risa was redder than before, and glaring as hard as she could. If looks could kill, Takeshi would be nothing but ash on the floor.

"They're not the same thing!"

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"They…they just aren't, okay?"

"See? I knew it. You don't know what you're talking about." There was no mistaking the smug look on Takeshi's face, or the anger and embarrassment on Risa's. The danger level elevated and everyone, including Riku and Daisuke, backed away. Risa's temper was as infamous as Takeshi's boredom, yet the reporter didn't seem to be worried in the least. He probably should have been.

"Says the one who's never had a girlfriend. I bet you haven't even been kissed!" Takeshi's triumphant smirk froze, then fell away only to find a new home on Risa's lips. Victory was a traitorous wench. But Risa's smirk turned into a frown as Takeshi flushed and looked away.

"W-what's that got to do with anything?" he demanded.

"You _haven't_ kissed anyone, right?"

"That's none of your business!" Takeshi tried to slink away, but unfortunately for him Daisuke and Riku had come forward once more out of curiosity. Glancing around, the reporter realized that they weren't the only ones. Every student in the room was looking at him, curious,shocked, or suspicious. He instantly regretted riling Risa up. He was the center of attention; all the students were looking at him. All except Satoshi, who was still writing in that damn notepad.

"Answer the question," Risa demanded, grabbing his arm when he tried to back away.

"I-"

"There's no way!" Riku laughed. "Who'd want to kiss _Saehara_?"

"You're-"

"Then why is he blushing?"

"Anyone would blush with a question like that, Risa."

"Even _you_ Riku?"

"What does that mean?"

Just as Takeshi was going to attempt another escape, now that the she-demon was distracted, the door opened and the teacher stepped inside, a bright smile on her face.

"Good morning everyone! Get in your seats. We're going to have some fun today!"

Takeshi didn't breathe a sigh of relief until his tormentors had moved away. From the look on Risa's face, he knew he had to avoid her. She wasn't about to give up. Grumbling, the brunette walked back to his seat, sitting and planning his escape routes for the day.

As he predicted, all day long Takeshi had to avoid Risa. The younger twin tried to corner him after every class and during lunch. She even got Daisuke to help out by questioning him during Gym. By the end of the day, Takeshi was exhausted and only wanted to go home. Slaving over a hot stove and listening to his dad complain about Dark was better than trying to avoid Risa. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about her now. He had stayed late for a newspaper meeting; she would be home by now, leaving him free and clear. Even knowing this, though, the reporter still jumped when he heard the rustle of clothing as he entered the classroom. He almost bolted out the door when he saw the glint of glasses.

"H-Hiwatari?"

The blunette nodded, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. "Were you expecting someone else?" Takeshi relaxed and let loose a nervous laugh.

"Actually, I thought you were Harada."

"Yes, she really has been dogging you all day." A person who didn't know him well would think Satoshi didn't have any feelings toward the situation. But Takeshi was different; he knew the crooked tilt of the right corner of the blunette's lips meant he was extremely amused.

"'Dogging' is right…she's like a terrier with a bone. I haven't had any peace all day!" The reporter growled and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. He hated that Satoshi had been paying so much attention to him all day.

"You shouldn't have antagonized her then," Satoshi said simply, shrugging. "You should know her well enough to realize she would retaliate. And now you've lost yet another fight with her."

"I couldn't help it, I was bored," Takeshi whined. "And she just set herself up for it! How was I supposed to ignore such a great opportunity? I thought I had her, too…"

"I have to admit, it was interesting seeing you turn so many shades of red. I didn't know you could." Takeshi could feel another blush rising at the words, and mentally cursed the other boy. The genius's eyes were probably sharper than his own; even while distracted with whatever he was doing, Satoshi managed to see that. Without Takeshi knowing he had seen! And besides…

"And whose fault do you-" Takeshi cut himself off, glancing around to see if anyone was there. When he turned back, Satoshi was holding up an envelope with his name printed on it. The brunette blinked, confused, until recognition hit.

"Where did you-?"

"It fell out of your locker during gym, and I haven't had a chance to return it."

"Thanks. I couldn't get in without it."

"I know." Takeshi stuck his tongue out and snatched the card up before he stomped to his desk. Because his back was turned, he missed the lift of Satoshi's lips, and the way the boy watched him the entire time. But he didn't miss the other's next words.

"So, I will see you tomorrow night?" The brunette glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the other boy, irritation forgotten.

"Of course, it's tradition!"

X

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X

Christmas Eve, a time for romantic dates, presents, and parties. And no party in Azumano was as notorious as the annual Christmas party held by the Azumano police force. It was the one night neighbors got to have the satisfaction of making complaints about the officers _to_ the officers. The reason was because things were lax on this particular holiday. It was a silent and unarranged agreement between Azumano's criminals and the police that Christmas Eve and Christmas day were off limits. The criminals would commit no crimes on these two days, and the police wouldn't pester the people they suspected of crimes; even Dark did not steal on these nights. Of course, it went without saying that if either side went against the agreement then it was fair game. With the respite and the comfort of it being tradition, the police felt better about being able to relax and unwind, which meant at least one officer would spike the punch (usually more than one bottle of alcohol went into it, because they would never think to talk it over with one another beforehand and give themselves away as the culprit) and more than one person would stumble home drunk and bother the neighbors, who would be sure to call one of the few sober officers left in the office.

When Takeshi finally walked into the building that night, the party was already in full swing. Someone had taken out the old record player (how it still worked his reporter's brain couldn't begin to figure out) and had a stack of Christmas records ready to be put on. The one already playing (Elvis's "Blue Christmas") was fighting to be heard over the radio one of the wives (Takeshi was sure it was Mrs. Nakagawa, who couldn't stand the old songs) had brought, which was currently playing BoA's "MeriKuri." The desks had all been pushed aside to make room for the dance floor, and one had been covered with a table cloth and laden with food. This one in particular was surrounded by officers and their wives, while the younger children played underneath. Only the bravest souls were attempting to dance with the conflicting music; a few couples seemed to be dancing to Elvis, while one was trying to dance to BoA. Judging by the flailing arms he saw, Takeshi was certain the punch had already been spiked at least once and that one couple was already well on their way to being drunk.

Garland had hastily been stapled to the tops of the walls, and a small, fake tree had been pulled out of the storage box (decade old decorations still hanging from its branches) and placed in the middle of the food table. The five officers on duty sat at their desks, talking to whoever came over to them but carefully avoiding the punch. They were no doubt afraid of what Chief Inspector Saehara would do to them should he catch them drinking something that had the reputation of being spiked year after year. Although there weren't many decorations, the entire office was filled with the holiday cheer, with smiles and laughter on every face. All except for one. A few minutes after he stepped into the room, Takeshi spotted the one person he knew would be avoiding food, punch, and music. Although it was difficult to see through the blinds, the brunette saw the light in Satoshi's office on and knew his classmate was in there. Takeshi grinned and shook his head, thinking _Well, it is tradition after all_. He hung his coat on the coat rack, and began winding his way through the crowd. One officer after another greeted him, and more than one wife stopped him to ask how school was doing. Because of this, it took him a good hour to finally make it to Satoshi's office, and he was almost afraid the blunette had left.

Takeshi peeked in, and had to smile at a familiar sight. Satoshi sat in his chair reading what was undoubtedly a report they had gotten the day before. A stack of similar manila folders were in front of him (stacked eerily perfectly) and the reporter would bet one year's allowance they were more reports. The boy genius had never been one to enjoy this parties. He had once commented to Takeshi that the only reason he attended was that there had to be at least one adult there. Takeshi could admit, after glancing behind him at his father (raging to a coworker about Dark), that Satoshi was probably the most adult person in the building right now. But that didn't mean the brunette was going to let his classmate work himself to death on this night. His grin widening, Takeshi sauntered into the office (knowing Satoshi knew he was there and ignoring it) and sat on the edge of the desk….right on top of the folders.

"Saehara." Calm, revealing nothing, Satoshi's voice was the very epitome of patience. It almost made Takeshi snicker.

"Yes Hiwatari?" Takeshi said, all innocence as he looked down at the other teen.

"You're sitting on my files." Satoshi did not look up, merely moved one hand to give a purposeful tug at the topmost folder. Not with the intention of actually taking it, but to make his point even more obvious. It was cute, really.

"I know," the reporter replied, still innocent, still not moving.

"Would you care to remove yourself from them?"

"Um….no, not really."

Blue eyes flashed asSatoshi _finally_ looked up at him, but he hid his annoyance well.

"Saehara, I need those. These cases are urgent and-"

"And can wait until after Christmas," Takeshi chirped. "Don't try telling me these are important, Dad's been complaining for weeks that things were slow. I'm willing to bet these are only reports for stolen purses or missing pets, and as sad as those are, they don't need your immediate attention."

"And who are you to judge whether they need my attention or not? Just because they do not involve Dark or a murder does not mean they are worth any less."

"No-o," the reporter said, drawing out the word, "but it does mean that your _immediate_ attention is not needed, and that they can wait at least one more day, since these have probably been waiting for about a week already." When Satoshi only stared at him, Takeshi added, "Dad rants, I hear things. Blame him." Takeshi almost felt bad when he saw the blunette close his eyes (he only did that when he was annoyed or stressed) but he would not let Satoshi get away with being a complete hermit tonight.

"Saehara, is there any particular reason you are here, in my office, sitting on my files, besides attempting to keep me from my work?"

"Well-"

"And you'd better not tell me the reason is to get me to have fun."

Takeshi promptly closed his mouth, and the two of them stared at one another. Outside, KAT-TUN and Mariah Carey fought to be heard, as well as the sound of breaking glass. But neither of them really took notice. After several seconds, Satoshi tilted his head.

"Why must you continue to do this year after year?"

"Because it's tradition," Takeshi quipped, grinning and kicking his legs.

"Apparently that is as well." When the blunette received only a questioning glance, he elaborated. "That is the same thing you say every year when I ask you that question." Takeshi laughed. Every year Takeshi made it his goal to bring Satoshi out of his shell and get him to socialize and enjoy the party. Every year Satoshi asked him that same question, and Takeshi always gave him the same answer.

"Well, what would happen if I didn't bug the hell out of you? You'd be a hermit. A pale, skinny, malnourished, boring-Oh wait, in that case I'm too late huh? But at least you aren't _as_ malnourished, and if you'd just get in the sun a little more like I keep telling you, and if you'd actually participate in gym at school-"

"Saehara?"

"Yeah?"

"You're babbling."

"Oh."

More silence. Satoshi went back to reading again, and Takeshi began to whistle innocently. He watched through the blinds as one drunk officer after another dragged a woman onto the dance floor. He groaned in embarrassment when he noticed his father dancing with Mrs. Nakagawa. His voice could be heard even in this room, and Takeshi knew he'd be dragging his father home while the man was drunk. It was tradition, after all. After a moment he turned his attention to Satoshi's office. Nothing had changed in the past year. A huge folder in the corner filled with clippings of Dark. A lone filing cabinet in the corner. The desk was pitifully empty save the files Takeshi sat on, a phone, a cup of pens, and a name card. The office was devoid of any sentimentality, of any life. There wasn't even a plant visible. No pictures were placed on the desk, not of friends and not of his father. It was a sad, dismal place and more than once the brunette wondered how Satoshi could stand it. If he had to stay in this office all day, he'd go crazy.

Suddenly, from outside, there was only one song playing. Someone had finally turned the record player off, and now the gentle strains of "Merry Christmas Darling" by the Carpenters drifted through the office. Just hearing the first few notes made Takeshi smile. The song held an embarrassing, but fun memory. When he had been nine, he had come to the party with his father. It was the first time he had met Satoshi, and was the only time Satoshi came to the party with his father. He was always alone after that. Takeshi had been sneaking glances at the quiet boy all night, who seemed content to sit in his corner reading a book. He had been about to go up to the other and say hi when Mrs. Nakagawa and the other wives had started playing the Carpenters.

"Satoshi-kun is such a little wallflower isn't he?" they had commented. "Someone needs to draw him into the party." They had looked to Takeshi, who was the most outgoing of the children congregated there, and said, "Why don't you ask him to dance, Take-kun?" And Takeshi, young enough to not realize how embarrassing that was, had smiled and agreed. He had walked right up to Satoshi, pulled the book down, and asked him to dance. Even back then Satoshi had had a poker face, and had revealed nothing. He had simply glanced at his father, who spared enough of his time to nod, and accepted. They had danced to the entire song, and then Satoshi had gone back to his book and Takeshi had gone back to playing with the other children feeling satisfied.

And…

A hand appeared in his line of vision, and Takeshi looked up. Without him noticing Satoshi had placed his report down and stood up. A smile quirked the boy's lips up slightly, and he shrugged at Takeshi's questioning look. "It's tradition, right?" The brunette slowly smiled and took the offered hand, hopping off the desk.

And they had danced every year since.

X

X

X

"I think…we have too many traditions," Takeshi griped as, hours later, he and Satoshi bore his drunken father home. After they had finished their dance, they had sat around making idle talk, and eventually Takeshi had even convinced Satoshi to step outside and get some food. "Just avoid the punch," he had said with a wink. But of course, Satoshi had known that. They had kept the officers on duty company, making a run out to a gas station once to get them something non-alcoholic. The punch, by that time, had been about 1% punch and 99% alcohol. They had just gone back to Satoshi's office and had only been in there an hour when they heard the first lines of a drinking song only one person knew –Chief Inspector Saehara. Both of them knew then that Takeshi's father had to be taken home, lest the song make its way among the officers. No one wanted to hear that song ever again. So the two had bundled up and, as they did every year, gathered Takeshi's dad up and began the long trek home. They didn't dare try to take the bus.

"And who was it that wanted me to join in?" Satoshi questioned with a smirk.

"Hey, I said I wanted you to have fun, I didn't say I wanted you to get drunk."

"I don't think there was a difference back there."

"….You have an excellent point, Hiwatari." Takeshi winced as his dad called loudly for "Azusa-chan!", and rolled his eyes. "Speaking of traditions…" Satoshi shook his head in amazement.

"How does he do that? He always says her name every year when we pass that one café…Did they meet there or something?"

"No, Mom hates that café." Both of them then cringed when the captain began serenading his invisible "Azusa-chan".

"I'm going to start checking bags at these parties," Satoshi muttered.

"And miss out on all this fun?" Takeshi quipped as he readjusted his father's arm on his shoulders, narrowly avoiding a fire hydrant.

"Your sarcasm is unwanted and unneeded." The reporter looked over at Satoshi, and smirked.

"I notice you didn't say 'unfunny'."

"…Just walk."

"Yes sir, Commander Hiwatari!"

Somehow they made it to Takeshi's house without too many problems. The only mishap was when Takeshi's fahter had broken away from them to chase after a woman and her poodle because, according to his drunken screams, the poodle was Takeshi's mother in disguise. The boys had caught up to him and apologized profusely to the woman, then re-traced their steps. By the time they reached his home, Takeshi was half-tempted to leave his now sleeping father on the floor. But his maternal side came out, and he had Satoshi help him carry his father to the bedroom. Neither one of them felt like unclothing the older man, so they made their escape to the front of the house.

"Thanks for helping me carry him home…again," Takeshi said with a laugh as they reached the door. He smiled up at Satoshi as he opened the door; glad he had his coat on. "I wouldn't have been able to do that on my own."

"It's fine," Satoshi replied with a shrug. The streetlight outside poured around the boy, and Takeshi would swear to any god at that time that the blunette was an angel. In his white coat and scarf, and his light-colored hair, he could have been a winter deity. "Although I have to wonder if my ears will ever work again."

"Sorry," Takeshi replied sheepishly. "Who would have thought he would think you were stealing Mom away?"

"I would avoid letting him anywhere near that street, in the future."

"Duly noted." The brunette opened his mouth to speak, but he glanced over Satoshi's shoulder and let out a laugh instead. "Hey, look, it's snowing!"

And it was. Small, gentle flakes fell from the cloudy sky with the promise of more to come. Takeshi reached out a hand, watching as the snowflakes landed and melted. "Looks like Risa got her wish," he said with a smile. But when he looked up at Satoshi, the smile vanished. The blunette was looking up, and Takeshi at first thought he was looking at the snow. When he followed the other's gaze, however, he saw it was something different. He flushed a bright red and looked back down, studying the snow intently.

That was when he felt it. A gentle touch on his chin. His heart pounding, Takeshi gripped Satoshi's clothed shoulder but allowed the blunette to tip his face up. His classmate's face was unreadable, but his eyes shone with an intensity the brunette had only seen a few times before. He was frozen, unable to move. And as Satoshi's soft, chapped lips touched his own, he was certain he didn't want to. Heat exploded inside of him and his legs suddenly felt like they were made of jelly. He clutched Satoshi tighter, a soft sigh of relief leaving him when he felt the other's arm wrap around him and pull him close.

Takeshi took back his words from before. Satoshi wasn't malnourished. Someone who was malnourished wouldn't be able to hold him with this much strength. The brunette moaned as he was pushed against his door (when did they close it?) and he buried his hand into the other's hair. The metal frame of Satoshi's glasses dug into his face, but it was okay because the other was so warm and his body felt so good where it was and oh god was that a tongue on his lips? It wasn't a fairytale. There were no fireworks, and Satoshi's lips were so chapped they burned, and they were too close in height for it to be comfortable, and really weren't there too many clothes? But still, it was perfect. Takeshi slid down the door until he reached the perfect height, and Satoshi gentled the kiss, and somehow he managed to slide an ungloved hand inside Takeshi's clothing and touch skin so warm he could swear the other was on fire.

Even with the cold, it was only when they needed to breathe that they broke apart. Their breath became puffs of clouds in the frozen air, and they still didn't move away from one another. Takeshi refused to release the blunette, and Satoshi couldn't move without the other falling.

"I think Harada's right," Satoshi whispered, placing another kiss on Takeshi's lips.

"About what?" the reporter whispered dazedly, trembling with cold and with something else he refused to name.

"The snow does make it more romantic." That made Takeshi smile.

"Don't tell her that."

Finally, neither of them could ignore the weather and they separated, although Satoshi didn't move until Takeshi was standing on his own; somehow the brunette's leg had found itself on Satoshi's hip. Takeshi attempted to get his sweater and jacket in order again, and Satoshi put his gloves back on.

"Merry Christmas Hiwatari," the brunette said softly as he opened his door, not wanting to leave but knowing his dad could wake up at any minute. Satoshi knew it as well. Even so, he reached out and pulled Takeshi close once more and kissed him just as deeply. Only when Takeshi was once more a trembling mess in his arms did Satoshi pull away.

"Merry Christmas _Takeshi_," he whispered with meaning. He smiled. It was only a small tilt of the lips, but it was still a smile, and it surprised the reporter enough that he didn't notice the use of his name until Satoshi was already walking down the sidewalk. Then he, too, smiled, and glanced up at the mistletoe that hung from the doorway –placed there by him while his father had been busy dressing for the party.

It was tradition, after all.

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**A/N**: Did you like? If so, click and leave me a review! Happy Holidays everyone!


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